Establishing Control: The Environmental Transformation of Sewell's Point

By Alec Bright
HRNM Volunteer

Naval Station Norfolk (NSN) is now a sprawling 3,400-acre complex with over 50 buildings; however, 100 years ago, in 1921, it was in its infancy, with a mere 474 acres to its name. Only 20 years before that, Sewell’s Point, the peninsula on which NSN sits, was largely undeveloped land. So, how did Sewell’s Point become what it is today? Sewell’s Point would undergo an environmental transformation for the Jamestown Exposition and the 300th anniversary of the arrival of British settlers to North America. Eighty thousand plants and trees were brought in to populate the once swampy area. The entirety of Lake Sanford was drained. The early efforts of the Exposition planners proved to the Navy the possibility of shaping a landscape to suit their own needs. Less than ten years after the Exposition, the Navy purchased the land on Sewell’s Point and began development, which continued for the next 100+ years, into the present day. In a sense, this is the story of how Naval Station Norfolk was created from the ground up.

Above is a map of the Jamestown Exposition Fairgrounds. Created by William H. Lee, a cartographer, the map was included in a pamphlet given to Exposition visitors. (Theodore Roosevelt Center)

Many already know the story of Admiral’s Row, the famous Jamestown Exposition homes where flag officers now live on base; however, few consider why or how this location came to be the Navy’s home in the mid-Atlantic. While the geographic importance of Hampton Roads was well known, as proven by all navies during the Revolutionary and Civil Wars, Sewell’s Point, named after an early British settler, had largely been overlooked before the early 20th century. Apart from a small Confederate outpost, a waterfront hotel, and some hunting land, the peninsula had been left in its natural state. In 1903, when the site selection committee for the Jamestown Exposition chose Sewell’s Point for the World’s Fair, they did so to fulfill the Virginia’s General Assembly request that the fair be “held at some place adjacent to the waters of Hampton Roads whereon all navies of all nations may rendezvous.”[1]

Overseen by W.H. Manning, an experienced landscape designer, the transformation began in January 1905 with the removal of dense vines and shrubs from the 400-acre lot. From February to April 1905, local companies removed pine trees on the fairgrounds, replacing them with 30,000 willow trees. By May 23, 1905, the entire 100-acre lake, Lake Sanford, had been completely drained. Tributaries of nearby Bush Creek were also drained to eliminate mosquito breeding grounds and provide more space for Exposition buildings. Although some parts of the existing environment were left for viewers to enjoy the “natural beauty of the land,” they were sparse.

After a report on flood mitigation techniques from Manhattan, Brighton Beach, Coney Island, and Atlantic City, the board of directors agreed to construct bulkheads and jetties on Sewell’s Point. A system of fast-draining pipes and stilts raised buildings above the marshy waterline on the western part of the fairgrounds and mitigated the mosquito problem. These jetties and other anti-flood protections were drawn into the Exposition’s building plans.

An image taken in 1909 of the two piers build at the end of Sewell’s Point for the Exposition; known as the “Godspeed” and “Susan Constant” piers. (Wikimedia Commons)

When the Navy came looking for a home in the mid-Atlantic for the upcoming war in Europe, it was known that this land could be tamed. W.H. Manning, his crew, and the rest of those involved in the Jamestown Exposition had morphed a small, rough forest into an urban center suited to host both ships and people. Over the next 100 years, the Navy would face many more challenges in maintaining its control over Sewell’s Point. However, after adding more than 2,900 acres to the naval station, the Navy continues to demonstrate willingness and ability to form the landscape to suit its needs in the area.

Circled are some of the remaining buildings from the Jamestown Exposition, Admirals Row. Today, these houses are occupied by Navy flag officers. (Google Earth)

Notes:
[1] Charles Keiley, ed., The Official Blue Book of the Jamestown Ter-Centennial Exposition, A.D. 1907: The Only Authorized History of the Celebration (Norfolk, VA: The Colonial Publishing Company, 1909), 37.

One Century Ago: Naval Air Station Norfolk's First Skipper, Part 1

Editor's Note: On our first blog post about Naval Air Station Oceana's establishment on August 17, 1943, it was mentioned that Rear Admiral P.N.L. Bellinger was in attendance at the commissioning ceremony.  On August 27, 1918, just shy of a quarter-century before that, Bellinger took command of Naval Air Station Hampton Roads (which was renamed NAS Norfolk after his first of his two assignments as CO there), and his name graces a major thoroughfare on Naval Station Norfolk today.  From the pages of  The Daybook, the Hampton Roads Naval Museum's quarterly magazine, our resident expert on Bellinger expounds upon Bellinger's importance to U.S. Naval Aviation in general, and its development in Hampton Roads in particular.

The administrative heads of Naval Air Station Hampton Roads (later NAS Norfolk) as photographed in January 1919.  Lieutenant Commander P.N.L. Bellinger, the station's commanding officer, is seated center front row.  (Hampton Roads Naval Museum file)

P.N.L. Bellinger: Pioneer Naval Aviator and the Early Days of NAS Norfolk 

By Ira R. Hanna
 
Many know that the first flight from a ship took place here in Hampton Roads, Virginia. What many people do not know is that the region was largely responsible for the creation and growth of the aviation branch of the U.S. Navy. Naval Aviation had many skeptics in the early years of flight, and it took several inspired and wise men to convince those skeptics that it was worth supporting. 
One of those wise and inspired men was Patrick Nieson Lynch Bellinger. A versatile naval officer, Bellinger served in the surface and submarine warfare communities before finding his true passion in Naval Aviation. During his 40 years of naval service from 1907 to 1947, only a few times did his name appear in the headlines of newspapers. Nor was he mentioned very often in magazines or on radio or television news broadcasts. On the other hand, the public in Hampton Roads should recall him every time it hears the sound of naval aircraft flying overhead. If not for Bellinger's foresight and perseverance in the development of naval aircraft and their integration into the fleet, those aircraft may not have become one of the most powerful weapons in the Navy.

How did this southern country boy from Cheraw (emphasis on RAW), South Carolina, become such an important part of the development and growth of Naval Aviation in general, and specifically, in Hampton Roads? Although it was his home, he hardly ever spoke of it. As his wife, Elsie, remarked, "It was CheRAW! when you arrived and HurRAW!! when you left." Born October 8, 1885, he was raised by his maternal aunt when his mother and sister died a few years after his birth. He was educated in local public schools, and in 1902 he enrolled in Clemson College as an electrical engineering student. Later that year he got his father's permission to leave Clemson to study for the Naval Academy's entrance exam. He received a congressional appointment and entered the class of 1907 on June 22, 1903. As a plebe (freshman) he weighed only 116 pounds and stood only five feet, ten inches tall. Even so, he was cajoled into athletics by an upper-classman and became an excellent boxer. He credited this with putting him in good enough physical and mental shape to be accepted for aviation nine years later.

At the academy, Bellinger was influenced by several of his instructors. The most important was Thomas T. Craven (mathematics and navigation), with whom he later would serve on the battleship South Carolina. Another was Ernest J. King (ordnance and gunnery), a future chief of naval operations.  Bellinger served as King's deputy for naval air during WWII. Also important was Joseph M. Reeves (physics and chemistry), who later pioneered the development of aircraft carriers, providing Bellinger with a wider view of the uses of aircraft. He served with Reeves as his aviation aide when he was commander of the Battle Fleet during the 1920s.

Upon graduation from the Naval Academy. Bellinger was assigned as a Passed Midshipman to the USS Vermont (BB 20), part of the Great White Fleet that departed Norfolk in 1907 and went around the world to show the might of the U.S.Navy. When the fleet reached Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), after he had received exemplary fitness reports from the Vermont's captain, he was transferred to the Wisconsin (BB 9). He completed the voyage on that ship and arrived back in Hampton Roads on February 22, 1909.  On March 6, when the Wisconsin was sent to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, for repairs, Bellinger and six other "student officers" were transferred to the cruiser Montgomery (C 9) based in Norfolk. It served as an experimental torpedo ship and this excited him. He watched the gunners' actions so closely that during one high-pressure run, a piece of metal flew up and hit him on the head. If it had hit him just inches lower, it would have killed him, one of many instances throughout Bellinger's lifetime that luck had a hand in his success.

One day, after watching the loading and firing of torpedoes, the student officers became bored and began to play roulette games during the shots. Bellinger happened to leave the game and go on deck for some fresh air. Before he could return, he heard his name being called loudly by the captain (Joseph Strauss, later the admiral who supervised the laying of the North Sea Mine Barrage during WWI). He wondered what trouble he was in, but Strauss merely informed him that the Navy Department had directed him to nominate two ensigns from the class of 1907 to send to the Navy's first dreadnaughts, the Michigan and the South Carolina. Strauss said, "In looking around. I find you are the only one of your class on the job, so you may have the pick." Of course, Bellinger chose the South Carolina that was located temporarily in Norfolk. He later noted "It certainly pays to be in the right spot at the right time." 

A postcard of the battleship South Carolina (BB 26). (Naval History and Heritage Command image)

 In the meantime, Northern European countries had expressed displeasure that the Great White Fleet had not visited their ports. So, in November 1910, the Navy Department sent the South Carolina to visit ports in France and England. After returning to Norfolk in January 1911, she was sent to ports in Denmark, Sweden, Russia, and Kiel, Germany. While in Kiel, Bellinger saw a plane fly over the harbor and decided that he wanted to go into aviation.

Bellinger's assignment on the South Carolina was assistant gunnery officer to "Terrible Tommy" Craven, whom he first met at the Academy and with whom he later would serve in the Bureau of Naval Aeronautics (BuAer). After much pleading, he convinced Craven to assign him command of one of the four 12-inch turrets. By holding extra practices, he had his turret crew ready for the Fleet Gunnery Championship held in March 1910 on the Virginia Capes. His guns made hits 88.5 percent of the time on a towed target and in record time. This enabled the South Carolina to win the Fleet Gunnery Trophy (which today is located in the Hampton Roads Naval Museum). This was instrumental in Craven being ordered to head the Navy's Office of Fleet Gunnery Training. The principle of teamwork and delegation of authority that Bellinger learned aboard the South Carolina stayed with him the rest of his life. The prize money, forbidden for officers to receive, went to his turret crew. Then, without his knowledge, they bought him an ornate gold watch and presented it to him. He was very proud of it and 46 years later he sent it to his grandson, who was named after him.

Before Craven left the ship in late 1911 he asked Bellinger if there was anything he could do for him in Washington. He replied that he had requested aviation duty from Lt. Theodore "Spuds" Ellyson, Naval Aviator No. 1, and would appreciate Craven's recommendation. To further prove he was sincere about aviation, he also had requested submarine duty so he could learn about gasoline engines that were similar to aircraft engines. In January 1912 he received orders to submarine duty and reported to the submarine flotilla commander in Norfolk, Lt. Chester W. Nimitz, on whose staff he later would serve during WWII, and help plan the air strategy for the Battle of Midway.

The C-Class submarine Bonita underway in 1909 before her recommissioning as USS C-4 in 1911. (Wikimedia Commons)

After five months of training Lt. j.g. Bellinger was given command of the Bonita, a training submarine that had been recommissioned as USS C-4. As fate would have it, his first orders were to sail to Greenbury Point Aviation Experimental Camp (the first in the navy) across the Severn River from the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. There he was to take part in a test to see if submarines could be located under water from the air. What he saw convinced him of the usefulness of aircraft to the navy. But he also discovered that Naval Aviation was treated as an unwanted stepchild by the "big gun" admirals and starved for equipment and personnel. Many senior officers believed that aviation's growth would challenge the supremacy of battleships, an attitude that Bellinger fought against for rest of his naval career.

At Annapolis in October 1912, with permission to fly as an observer on a test flight, John Towers, a classmate of Bellinger and Naval Aviator No. 2, offered to take him up in a Curtiss A-2. Towers knew that Bellinger was skeptical about aviation, especially when the A-2 crashed the day before they were to make the flight. Still, Towers persuaded Bellinger to take a flight with Victor Herbster (Naval Aviator No. 4) in a Wright biplane with twin floats. Pilot and observer sat side by side on seats mounted on the lower wing. There were no safety straps and only a wooden outrigger to prevent sliding during a steep glide. Bellinger was concerned with personal safety on planes and wondered if he really wanted to fly. Yet, he confessed that he "felt exhilaration, danger, strangeness, and certainly fear, when perched on the edge of a wing, dangled our feet down to a bar on a pontoon, and hunched and prayed our wobbly little seaplane would lift up off the water." 

In early November, Bellinger visited Ellyson at the Washington Navy Yard. He asked Bellinger if he had received aviation duty orders. When he said he had not, Ellyson suggested that he see his detail officer at the Navy Department immediately. The detail officer told him that a clerk had erred and issued the orders to Ens. William Billingsley. Billingsley had not asked for aviation but had accepted anyway and already was being trained. Downhearted and disgusted with the navy bureaucracy, Bellinger was losing his inclination to be an aviator and returned to Annapolis. Even so, he went on a second flight with Towers and was "thrilled with the first hope" that he might become a naval pilot. On November 26, 1912, he received orders that detached him from command of the C-4 and directed him to report to Towers at Greenbury Point for aviation training duty. He was cautiously elated but very pleased to have Towers as his instructor.

Lt. j.g. P.N.L. Bellinger at the controls of a Curtiss A-type seaplane. (Naval History and Heritage Command image)

In just a few short months Bellinger was fully qualified as a naval flying officer. Because of severe weather conditions during the winter in Annapolis, in early January 1913, the pilot training school was sent to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, to train with the fleet. At that time Capt. Washington Irving Chambers, Director of Naval Aviation, for whom the airfield at NAS Norfolk would be named, encouraged the few naval aviators under his authority to try to influence surface and submarine officers to accept aircraft as useful to the fleet. On one of his flights, Bellinger was able to see a submarine in deep water and to spot mine fields. During war games he invariably discovered the approaching "hostile" fleet at a great distance which impressed the fleet commanders. To further comply with Chambers' request the young pilots gave flights to more than 200 fleet officers without incident. This produced positive press throughout the fleet. It began a change of mind in the "big gun" senior officers toward the integration of naval aviation into the fleet. 

As one of the first Naval Aviators (No. 8), Bellinger tested innovations in aircraft design, construction and instrumentation. In May 1913, Bellinger and Holden C. Richardson, Naval Aviator No. 13 and an aircraft engineer, were sent to the Burgess Aircraft Manufacturing Company plant in Marblehead, Massachusetts, to test a new flying boat being built for the navy. They found it to be satisfactory and it was shipped to Annapolis. When they returned to Greenbury Point, Bellinger was ordered to go with 20-year old Lawrence "Gyro" Sperry to the Curtiss aircraft plant at Hammondsport, New York, to test a gyroscopic stabilizer system invented by his father, Elmer A. Sperry. Meanwhile, on June 13th, his chief mechanic told Bellinger that his plane's engine was working well and that it was a fine day to set a new altitude record with the Curtiss A-3. Since he was eager to better Herbster's record of 4,450 feet, Bellinger flew off in exceptionally smooth air and climbed in ever wider turns until suddenly the plane seemed to wallow and his right wing dipped. He instinctively shoved the controls forward and was soon in a smooth glide. He had stalled the plane, first ever for a navy pilot, and recovered perfectly. In any event, he had reached 7,200 feet, an altitude record that lasted for two years.

Before Bellinger went to Hammondsport, Elmer Sperry requested that he come to his factory in Brooklyn, New York. There, "Gyro" Sperry explained the principle of the gyroscopic stabilizer. He did not tell Bellinger that two Army pilots already had crashed and died using his "contraption." It apparently did not matter since Bellinger conducted over 50 trials in all kinds of weather and found the stabilizer to have too many problems for use on navy planes. But he did make several suggestions that eventually helped Sperry to perfect what eventually became the autopilot.
 

In 1914, Lt. Cmdr. Henry C. Mustin (Naval Aviator No. 11), and the newly-promoted Lt. Bellinger opened the first naval aviation training station in Pensacola, Florida. During his time there he met Elsie Mackeown, a cousin of Mustin's wife. They were married on July 24th, 1915. Perhaps to extend their honeymoon at the Chamberlain Hotel at Old Point Comfort In early 1915, Bellinger and Mustin took the outdated battleship Mississippi (BB 23) from Pensacola to Norfolk where it would be turned over to a Greek crew. When 30 miles away from Chesapeake Bay, Bellinger's flying boat was lowered into the ocean and he was given an official letter to be mailed. He took off and in a few minutes landed on a sandy beach near Old Point Comfort and mailed the letter at the nearest post office. It was the first time a naval aircraft was used as a mail plane in the United States. Bellinger later established daily mail service for military correspondence from Naval Operating Base (NOB), Hampton Roads, to Washington, D.C.

This very early aerial photograph from the fall of 1917 shows the nucleus of what would be commissioned as Naval Air Station Hampton Roads the following year, where most of the aircraft were stored in canvas hangars along "Discovery Landing," between two giant piers constructed for the Jamestown Exposition a decade before.  The barracks of Naval Training Station Hampton Roads, which opened in October 1917, can be seen in the background. (Hampton Roads Naval Museum file)

In September 1917, Bellinger was assigned as the commander of Naval Air Detachment Hampton Roads. The unit had just arrived at Sewells Point on the grounds of the former Jamestown Exposition to the east of the equally new NOB Hampton Roads. In the beginning, when any of his seven seaplanes needed repair, they were housed in canvas hangars on the sandy shore of Discovery Landing in the Grand Basin between the two 1,000-foot government piers. When operational but not in use the planes were staked in the water. During his first six months in Norfolk, Bellinger saw the station facilities increase exponentially. This included two aircraft repair buildings, three, two-story barracks, a mess hall that accommodated 450 men, a blimp hangar, and a landing field for general use. There, he supervised the instruction of many regular and reserve navy pilots, some of whom became leaders in government and business as well as the Navy.

One of his students was James Forrestal who was a member of the Princeton Naval Reserve Flying Corps. In 1940, Forrestal was Undersecretary of the Navy for Air. On their way to Forrestal's office to receive last minute instructions before Bellinger reported as commander of Naval Aviation in Hawaii, Towers reminded Bellinger that Forrestal had been under his command at Norfolk in 1918. When they got to the office, Forrestal began by saying, "Bellinger, the last time I saw you at Norfolk, you called me into your office, scared the daylights out of me, and gave me hell for stunting a plane that shouldn't have been stunted." Bellinger did not remember Forrestal and later said that "After all, I had chewed out a lot of ensigns in my time."

Lt. Cmdr. Patrick N.L. Bellinger in 1919. (Naval History and Heritage Command image)

During WWI, while Bellinger was CO of NAS Hampton Roads, more pilots were trained there than any other station, including Pensacola-662 or approximately 40 percent of the total of 1,656 Naval Aviators. Student pilots were given about 400 minutes of flying instruction in Curtiss trainers. Upon completion, they soloed for five hours in Curtiss Navy Flying Boats and then shifted to the larger Curtiss N-9 seaplanes. This was a very short training time compared to that which naval pilots receive today, but apparently very effective. Many became "aces" in Europe by shooting down at least three enemy aircraft.

Commander Ira "Dick" Hanna (USNR, Ret.), one of HRNM's longest-serving docents, holds a masters degree in history from Old Dominion University and a doctorate in education administration from The College of William and Mary. Among the many leadership posts he has held in the educational field, he has served as superintendent of Mathews County Public Schools and has taught as an adjunct professor of history and education administration at Old Dominion University. His father, Chief Yeoman Ralph Hanna, worked directly for P.N.L. Bellinger during his naval career.  This article also includes published research from Professor Palo E. Colleta, who Cmdr. Hanna studied under at the U.S. Naval Academy. 

Captain Paul Merwin and the Renaissance of Naval Station Norfolk

Editor's Note: Sewells Point, home of the world's largest naval station, was once crisscrossed by lush salt marshes bordering creeks that were filled in many decades ago. A modest nature park has reintroduced some of the original flora to the area, bearing the name of a man who reintroduced order, discipline, and cleanliness to the Naval Station Norfolk at a critical time in its history. This is his story.

A Great Egret flies across a small lagoon at Captain Paul Merwin Salt Marsh Park and Wetlands Area, a stone's throw from Naval Station Norfolk's carrier piers. (M.C. Farrington)

By Captain Alexander G. Monroe, USN (Ret)
HRNM Docent & Contributing Writer

At a lovely spot overlooking Willoughby Bay, nestled between carrier pier overflow parking lots and the Vista Point Ball Fields at Naval Station Norfolk is an area known as the Captain Paul Merwin Salt Marsh Park and Wetlands Area.  It is named for the man who commanded the naval station from August 1974 to June 1977. Merwin had previously served as commanding officer of USS Talbot (DEG 4)[1] and was one of three executive assistants to Admiral Stansfield Turner when he served as president of the Naval War College. The newly-promoted captain was chosen to lead Naval Station Norfolk by Admiral Ralph W. Cousins, Commander in Chief of the U.S. Atlantic Fleet. He was only 42 years old when selected for the job. [2]  As he reported for duty, Merwin was mindful of the counsel of a flag officer in Washington DC who advised him to “be prepared for real problems down there and arrive running at full speed.”[3]

Captain Paul Merwin (Courtesy of Capt. Paul Merwin, USN (Ret.)

When Merwin arrived, he found there were fundamental but related problems. The station physical plant was deteriorating, and military courtesy was nonexistent. There was trash and litter throughout the base, and it was not secure from outside intrusion.  He noted that after he took command it was discovered that one “sailor” living in J-50 was actually a civilian vagrant from downtown Norfolk. Most importantly, the barracks were not secure, especially in Building J-50, where temporary, or "transient" personnel were berthed.[4]  The streets of the naval station were not safe at night, and marauding gangs of thugs set upon Sailors returning to their ships late at night.[5] Admiral Cousins had become so concerned with the report of physical plant deterioration made by his inspector general that in a June 1974 letter he ordered the commandant of the Fifth Naval District and the station commander to provide weekly reports on remedial action.

The deteriorating and dangerous conditions for junior personnel came to the attention of Congresswoman Shirley Chisholm via a letter sent by Fireman Apprentice Reginald K. Wakefield in April 1974.  She sent a staff member to interview Wakefield.  She wrote to Naval Station Norfolk’s commander at the time, Captain Samuel G. Anders, on June 17, 1974, requesting a report on racial conditions on the naval station.  Anders responded on June 26, advising that there were no indications that there was impending trouble and that perceptions could be interpreted in different ways.  Anders spoke of the difficulty bringing about attitudinal change, with racial overtones being a constant problem.[6]  Conversely, black Sailors opined that they had been singled out—“profiled” in today’s patois, for attention because of their race.  According to a black civilian base police sergeant, the possibility of night attacks, particularly if a white Sailor appeared intoxicated, were good, adding, “If he’s staggering, he’s hurt.”[7]

The northeast corner of Naval Station Norfolk near Pier 14 (center of photo) as it appeared in the late-1970s, looking east-southeast. The area that later became the salt marsh park is due east of the pier. (Hampton Roads Naval Museum file) 

A major contributing factor to the strife was overcrowding. The number of Sailors temporarily assigned to the naval station was anywhere from 2,100 to 3,000 at any given time.  Many, though by no means all, were awaiting discharge from the Navy under other-than-honorable conditions. Even with augmentation, the legal staff was not able to separate those who were to be discharged rapidly. Finally, a source of extreme difficulty was the Tradewinds Enlisted Club, which had become a center for racially-tainted, often alcohol-fueled violence.  Patrons tended to separate themselves racially and mingled only when departing through a common lobby that became a scene of donnybrooks.[8]  In addition to being a site of brawls among customers, it was a center for other crime.  In one instance, the Station Chief of Police, Jake Hardison, noted a late model sports car in the club parking lot that had been observed in other parts of the base.  He had the car’s license number traced and discovered that it belonged to a seaman deployed to the Mediterranean on a carrier.  Its owner was later arrested for narcotics offenses.  Criminality on the naval station also spilled over into the civilian community, evidenced by the indictment of two Sailors, residents of Barracks Lima, for the abduction, robbery and murder of Elizabeth Young, a Norfolk taxi driver.[9]  There was, in sum, a clear need to re-establish control.

The northeast corner of Naval Station Norfolk as it appears today, looking east-southeast in this virtual view.   The salt marsh park is at center left, opposite Pier 14. (Google Maps)

Captain Merwin took immediate action to meet the challenge.  He sought a new executive officer (XO) and chose Commander (later Vice Admiral) Jimmy Pappas.[10]  Pappas recalled later that he had orders to a duty station in Greece, but that they had been changed for him to be Merwin’s XO. He described the interlude as a “fun tour.”  Moreover, he described the long hours that he and his boss worked.  He worked in tandem with Merwin, who used techniques such as unscheduled inspections that he and his staff might conduct at unusual hours, such as 3 am. Together, they set out to improve military courtesy, reduce the number of transient personnel crowding the naval station, clean up trash, and improve security.  A key part of the effort was that one of the two would always be in the field and the other in the office.  One of his staff, the port services officer, recalled seeing Cdr. Pappas driving all over the station, picking up litter and throwing it into the trunk of his personal automobile.[11]

Captain Paul Merwin, commanding officer of Naval Station Norfolk, and his executive officer, Commander Jimmy Pappas, during the mid-1970s. (Courtesy of Capt. Paul Merwin, USN (Ret.)

Certain specific steps ensued. As noted, the most serious barracks safety problems existed in Building J-50, later renamed Nimitz Hall.[12] A security watch was immediately instituted, and only those who were positively identified were admitted. In an interview, Capt. Merwin recalled that in one instance he took Adm. Cousins on a tour of the building, and even the admiral, who was in uniform, was required to show his ID card! This was in contrast to a situation noted in the Atlantic Fleet Inspector General’s report in which it was noted that watch standers were poorly attired and did not seem to know their duties. Further, the fire doors were shut to prevent entry by unauthorized persons, although the Fire Marshal opposed this step. “We just took this step, and the security problem went away,” recalled Merwin. The same technique was used in responding to bomb threats. They were ignored, and the problem, according to Merwin, “went away.” This was a method that was used to eliminate many problems: take action and see what happened. [13] In one case, a sign noting a railroad crossing was removed because the tracks were no longer in use. In another, a deteriorating, unsightly sign at the entrance to the Naval Station was removed. “We just did it,” recalled Merwin. The most significant step was temporarily closing the Tradewinds Club, a source of chronic difficulties described earlier. The club had been closed earlier, twice in a ten-day period, in what was called “the Summer of our discontent.”

Application of routinized procedures where there had been none and a “hit the ground running” approach brought about immediate results. Merwin realized that he needed to make a bold impression early to break the sense of ennui and dispiritedness that he believed enervated the command. A key component of this was requiring his department heads to give him candid written evaluations of their most pressing problems. He used these contributions to fashion the “Norfolk Naval Station Plan;” a description of what was required to achieve the objectives he and his XO wished to reach. It was clear from a review of statistics that the team efforts put in place were working. As noted in the press, in certain categories such as assaults there was a marked reduction in crime aboard the Naval Station, while such crimes in the civilian community were increasing.

The most telling and significant praise came in a Ledger-Star editorial which held that the most important factors in changes to date were a “a fresh and vigorous program for getting at the various perceived roots of difficulty…with station personnel themselves canvassed for ideas and marshaled for an extensive upgrading of performance.“ The editorial ended by saying that “the degree of recovery to date, and that yet promised, must be given earnest applause.” Though both civic leaders and Navy officials urged caution in the interpretation of such initial data, the news was encouraging.[14] Concurrently it was reported that a retired Washington D.C. Police Chief, Jerry Wilson, had visited the station at Captain Merwin’s invitation and reported that the efforts to ensure safety were worthwhile and appropriate.

In recalling those times, Capt. Merwin spoke of the accumulation of trash and litter all over the station and set out a scheme to combat it. With XO Pappas spearheading the effort, a series of blue and gold trash cans were placed station-wide. The skipper gave a personal push to the venture by appearing, smiling, in front of a poster containing a poem promising condign punishment to litterers, which involved working with the First Lieutenant in cleaning the station. 

(Courtesy of Capt. Paul Merwin, USN (Ret.))

The large group of transient personnel on board was a robust source of labor. This reduced the problem Merwin perceived when he assumed command of having too many people “doing nothing, not given productive work and getting into trouble.” Those who still littered could be dealt with by their commands or, in the case of civilians, cited and brought to a U.S. Magistrate’s court for appropriate action. Some of these steps were documented in a February 1977 issue of All Hands Magazine and provided the impetus for later efforts that gained national attention.[15] The key actors in the effort were: Cdr. Pappas, Chief Master at Arms Hugh G. Wade, and Chief Constructionman Donald Oswald.

The Ledger-Star editorial mentioned earlier cited the role of Captain Merwin’s subordinates in fashioning solutions to the problems that he faced when assuming command. The edition of December 9, 1974, reported on the work of his Command Advisory Team (CAT), a group of representatives who decided what was best for the command, with his concurrence.[16] This innovation, made three months after Merwin took command, assembled a cross section of the station personnel, both transients and permanently assigned, military and civilian, who strived to identify areas of difficulty where procedures and customs might be altered for the benefit of all hands. Working with the Human Resource Office, meeting regularly after their first meeting on October 30, 1974, the group learned how to identify problems and recommendations. They also brainstormed about how to deal with areas of potential conflict, such as Sailors performing auto maintenance in front of the barracks. The group initially developed about 13 areas in which attention might be merited, also addressing the notion that “no one cared for transients.” Merwin recalled that during his tenure, the chaplain staff began a ministry specifically for them.

The Ledger-Star issue of November 25, 1974, reported the travail which ended in a general discharge under honorable conditions for Fireman Apprentice Wakefield, whose letter had attracted the attention of Congress. His difficulties began when his mother became ill while he was on leave. He was given an extension of his leave but then ran out of money. After finally returning to Norfolk, Wakefield became enmeshed in the disciplinary system, spending 124 days in custody. Because he had missing pay records, he could not be paid. The upshot was that the charges that accumulated were dismissed and in one instance the Navy judge scolded the service for holding him for eight months without pay, calling it an “oppressive delay.” To help keep such embarrassing personnel gaffes from happening again, the captain and his staff began sending service records by helicopter each week directly to the Bureau of Naval Personnel in Arlington, Virginia for quick processing. A hotline system was established so that those awaiting transfer or separation could check their status. Close liaison with the Navy Regional Finance Center was established to do away with pay foul-ups.[17]

The disestablishment of the Portsmouth, New Hampshire Naval Prison in 1974 also presented a challenge to Capt. Merwin when prisoners were transferred to the Correctional Center (Brig) at Norfolk Naval Station, imposing an added burden on station resources. Merwin selected Lieutenant Commander James Keller, whose firm yet fatherly demeanor marked him to Merwin as an ideal candidate. Keller took charge with a firm hand, yet he was capable to relate to both the staff and those detained there. The wisdom of this assignment was borne out when, within a story about Merwin’s tenure as CO, the Norfolk Brig was called “the best in the Navy.”[18]

While Merwin’s team focused on immediate issues such as safety, transient census reduction and base cleanliness, the captain also took steps to increase recreational opportunities for all hands. In so doing he changed the milieu of an institution that had existed since before 1942 under different names, the Commissioned Officers Mess (Open) commonly known as the Sewell’s Point Golf Course. The course was originally a part of the Norfolk Yacht and Country Club, and had been known by other names until it was acquired by the Navy in 1942 from the Norfolk Golf Club as a recreational site. It was created as an officers-only entity and had retained that stigma over the years. The financial picture was marginal, but the chief goal was removal of the elitist flavor. Merwin decided that it should be continued as a “fine recreational facility open to all entitled to use Special Services [now known as MWR] facilities.” The small number of remaining members was still able to use the course, but memberships no longer existed, and users paid modest green fees. Merwin remembers that the reaction was favorable except among a few retired officers who denounced him as an “upstart.” [19] The golf course thrives to this very day, a testament to the wisdom of the decision.

(M.C. Farrington)

By the application of steady pressure, security problems began to decrease. Merwin then turned his attention to more permanent improvements. Older buildings were modernized, sidewalks were widened. Catch basins were cleaned.  Merwin noted that over 800 trees were planted.  Wives’ clubs adopted fire hydrants and sentry stations were repainted using the red, white and blue paint scheme associated with the 1976 Bicentennial Celebration. Eleven thousand new parking spaces were created in areas that had formerly been a vacant dusty field, an innovation of no small importance to the ordinary Sailor.   The operating theory was that a clean place is likely to remain so.  By a fortuitous coincidence, the Navy was required to obtain land for an extension of Runway 27. That led to the demolition of a group of seedy locker clubs, bars and jewelry stores at the end of Hampton Boulevard known as “the strip.” [20]   In summary, the base's appearance began to change, and with it, its reputation.  Security and cleanliness went hand in hand.

The successful implementation of cleanliness, sustained by rigid enforcement, was such that Merwin's team submitted an application for formal recognition to an organization known as Keep America Beautiful, under its Clean Community Systems project.  Somewhat to his astonishment, Merwin later received a telegram from the organization's staff announcing that the Naval Station Norfolk had won first place in the “Government Agency” category.  Naval Station Norfolk had exceeded the performance of all other military and civilian governmental entities.[21]  For Merwin, the award was not only important in and of itself, but also in its contribution to “safety, morale, good order and discipline.”

Signage on a platform overlooking the lagoon describes the park's purpose. (M.C. Farrington)

The achievement for which Captain Paul Merwin is most remembered more than four decades later is in the elimination of “chaos,” to be read also as “crime.” The Norfolk Portsmouth Bar Association annually confers the Liberty Bell Award to someone who "promotes a better understanding of the rule of law or encourages a greater respect for Law and the courts.” Those honored have typically been congressmen, governors, chiefs of police, and newspaper editors, but in 1976, the individual earning the award was Captain Paul L. Merwin, in recognition for his reestablishment of a sense of order on the station.  Rear Admiral Robert R. Monroe, commander of the Operational Test and Evaluation Force, praised Merwin for, “improvements everywhere and the manner in which you have balanced functional advances with attractive landscaping and better maintenance has been most effective…the changes evoke not only great pride in our Navy but pleasure in our home and neighborhood.”

Paul Merwin reviewed his accomplishments of the previous 34 months within the pages of the Norfolk Ledger-Star of June 29, 1977.  He recalled wryly that one of his chiefs had cautioned him shortly after his arrival in 1974 against walking from his quarters to his office for his own safety![22] Yet he noted that by May 1977, there only one robbery on the station.  By that time, there were only 400 transient Sailors on board, and the base was clean.  Merwin declared, “Attention to detail in every respect…pride and hard work had come back.”

After completing their tours in Norfolk, the two top members of the team moved on. Capt. Paul Merwin became operations officer for the Pacific Fleet in Pearl Harbor and retired in 1980. He went on to a distinguished career at Matson Steamship Lines, retiring a second time in March 2018.  Cmdr. Pappas went on to be commanding officer of Naval Base San Diego.  Ultimately, he retired as a vice admiral after a tour as Director of Logistics for the Joint Chiefs of Staff.  

Paul Merwin emerged as a leader at a time when leadership was sorely needed at Naval Station Norfolk, and the Captain Paul Merwin Salt Marsh Park is a fitting and appropriate recognition of his priceless contributions.

A Great Egret emerges from the lagoon at Captain Paul Merwin Salt Marsh Park, located near the northeast corner of Naval Station Norfolk (M.C. Farrington)

NOTES:

[1] Talbot was homeported at Newport, Rhode Island during Captain Merwin’s period in command, and later its homeport was changed to Norfolk.

[2] “Anders leaves ‘heat” to young successor,” Norfolk Ledger-Star, Section B1, September 6, 1974, Harry Padgett. Earlier practice had been to assign an officer approaching retirement to this post.

[3] “Departing CO cleaned up ‘chaos” at base,” Norfolk Ledger-Star, Section B1, June 29, 1977, Harry Padgett. Cited hereafter as "Departing CO."

[4] “Naval station incidents cited,” Norfolk Ledger-Star, Section B1, August 29, 1974, Jack Kestner.

[5] ‘Wave of discontent rocks naval station,” Norfolk Ledger-Star, August 28, 1974, Jack Kestner;

[6] See again end of note 4.  Lt. Henry Wingate, a Navy lawyer, complained that after he moved into the station Bachelor Officers Quarters he was subjected to unjustified ID card checks that were in his opinion based on his race. He wrote of these incidents in a letter alleging “discrimination and racism by base police.” This letter came to the attention of Vice Admiral David H. Bagley and Vice Admiral Douglas C. Plate, Deputy Commander in Chief, U.S. Atlantic Fleet.

[7] Ibid. This is the statement of Sgt. “Eddie” Edmonds. His boss, Chief Jake Hardison, noted that "racial assaults are at an all- time high” in an article “Discipline, A Navy dilemma,” in the August 30, 1974, Norfolk Ledger-Star.

[8] Telephone Interview of April 12, 2018 of Captain Paul L. Merwin, USN (Ret.) by Captain Alexander G. Monroe, USNR (Ret.), cited hereafter as "Merwin Interview." Also see end note four above.

[9] The key factor here, which will be discussed below was that the two Sailors had not received pay during the time they were awaiting discharge, and they allegedly committed the crime to get money.

[10] Cdr. Pappas had earlier served as commanding officer of USS Rigel (AF 58).

[11] This is the recollection of retired Lt. Cmdr. Anthony V. D. Angelo.

[12]  “Naval station incidents cited.” According to the story, some residents were so fearful for their safety that they slept in their cars.

[13]  Merwin Interview.

[14] "Naval Station Crime does about face,” Norfolk Ledger Star, Section B1, October 30, 1974. See also “Naval Station: a turn,” Viewpoint, Norfolk Ledger-Star, November 1, 1974. The editorial appeared 56 days after Paul Merwin took command and credited the Fifth Naval District Commandant Rear Admiral Richard E. Rumble, Captain Paul L. Merwin and “all hands.”

[15] “A Winning Recipe in Norfolk,” All Hands, February 1977, pp.28-30, JO2 Gary Grady and PHC Milt Putnam. Cited hereafter as "Winning Recipe."

[16] “CAT watches base problems,” Norfolk Ledger-Star, December 9, 1974, Section B1, Jack Kestner.

[17] "Wakefield gets Navy discharge,” Norfolk Ledger-Star, November 25, 1974, SectionB1, Jack Kestner.

[18] Departing CO.

[19] “Sailors to swing at golf club,” Norfolk Ledger-Star, November 4, 1974, Jack Kestner, and “Royster remains club pro,” Norffolk Ledger-Star, November 5, 1974, Page A.14, Jack Kestner. See Also Interview between Captain Merwin and Captain Monroe of April 18, 2018

[20] "Winning Recipe."

[21] Ibid.

[22] Merwin Interview.

About the author: Captain Alexander "Sandy" G. Monroe, a retired surface warfare officer, is the author of In Service to Their Country: Christchurch School and the American Uniformed Services (2014) as well as official histories on U.S. Atlantic Command counternarcotic operational assistance to civilian law enforcement agencies and the treatment of Haitian asylum seekers at Naval Station Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. He was also dispatched to the Arabian Gulf on assignment for the director of naval history during Operation Earnest Will.

Editor's note: This and every HRNM blog post by a contributing writer reflects the opinions and core beliefs of the writer and should not be construed as representing the official policies or opinions of the museum, the Department of the Navy, or the United States Government.